by Lauren Wood
The faint clicking sound sent a sharp chill racing through me. I froze, listening with every nerve ending, not wanting to give my position away by moving. Had the lights been on, the intruder would have seen me instantly and I him. As it was, I heard my door open, and the faint light from outside illuminated my apartment briefly.
Then the door closed, and I was inside with Andrews.
I knew it was him. My instincts screamed the knowledge. Like a deer in a forest, I remained still, listening. He didn’t know my apartment like I did, and he tripped over a chair. Was he searching for a light to turn on? Did he think that maybe I really wasn’t at home?
Inwardly, I cursed that my bear spray was twenty paces away, and Andrews now stood between me and it. Frantic, I thought of another weapon within reach and had nothing more dangerous at hand than the remote for the television.
The light in the kitchen snapped on.
I stood up fast, spinning, and stared at Andrews’s triumphant and grinning face. He had a small coil of thin rope in his hand, and it didn’t take a mind reader to know what he had in mind. Like the Barbie doll, he planned rape, and then perhaps dabble in my murder.
“Gotcha,” he sneered, edging toward me. “Now I’ll show you little.”
He lunged at me.
I spun away, keeping the couch between me and him. He stalked me, licking his lips, his eyes like twin mad pools of living hell. I flicked my eyes from him long enough to see my phone on the couch and made to grab it. He, too, saw it, and seized it before I could.
“No,” he gritted, still grinning. “You’re not calling nobody.”
He came for me again, and this time I punched him squarely in the nose before dodging away. Andrews flinched, recoiled, blood spurting. “Bitch,” he hissed.
I may not have a weapon, but I did have neighbors. The walls were thin in this building. “Help me!” I screamed as loud as I could. “Rape, rape, he’s gonna kill me. Help me.”
Andrews’s expression turned to alarm when I started yelling. But either he didn’t believe anyone would come to my aid, or call the cops, or try to stop him, or he was too insane to stop. Whatever the reason, he threw himself at me. Again, I twisted away, and he grabbed my shirt, yanking me toward him.
As I kept screaming for help even as he dragged me closer, I landed another punch to his mouth, smashing his lips against his teeth. Even so, he grabbed the back of my neck and slapped me hard across the face. I tried to knee him in his nuts, still yelling for all I was worth, but I missed and struck his thigh.
An instant later, Andrews fell away from me, his shout of surprise barely heard over my own shrieks for help. Someone heard me. Andrews had his hands full of whoever had seized him by the shoulders and let go of me. Swiping my hair from my face, I froze, stunned, my yells halted.
Jack spun Andrews around and delivered a very hard punch to his face. Andrews responded with a punch to Jack’s gut, then another to his wounded arm. Oh, shit. Jack had only one good arm while Andrews had two. Still, Jack was far stronger, leaner, and fought back with a ferocity that shocked me.
Faces appeared in the open doorway.
“Call the cops,” I yelled.
As Andrews knocked Jack backward, I suddenly knew that all he had to do was free himself from the fight and run. He’d never be caught. Jack charged forward and tackled Andrews to the floor, but Andrews quickly had him pinned down. I saw him hit Jack’s left bicep again, and this time Jack screamed.
Hardly thinking, I ran for the bedroom. Where did I leave that shit? Fuck! I barely had enough light to see by, and no time to switch the light on. It stood on my dresser, half seen, or maybe I only saw it by instinct. Either way, I grabbed it and remembered to turn the can in the right direction.
Andrews still had Jack pinned and was beating the shit out of him.
“Mother fucker,” I snarled.
Andrews looked up, hesitating.
I pressed the button and squirted enough pepper spray in his eyes to make a bear pray for mercy.
If Jack had screamed in pain, that was nothing compared to the horrible shrieks of agony that erupted from Andrews now. He covered his face with his hands, but I continued to hold the button down, squirting more into his eyes, mouth, nose, the sensitive tissues.
I half saw Jack roll to the side as Andrews stumbled away from him, crawling across the floor on his hands and knees. Blind, staggering, he fought to get away from me, but I was pissed now. I kicked him in the ribs, throwing him onto his side. His mouth, opened wide to continue his wild crying, proved far too tempting for me.
I pointed the sprayer right at his mouth and triggered it again.
Choking, gagging, he once again tried to escape me and my wrath. He rolled onto his back in an effort to maybe get up, I don’t know. He was blinded by the stuff, and the red goo dripped from his face, his hair, his clothes.
I stopped the stray, then slammed my heel down hard on his crotch. Whether he felt that agony over the pain of the spray, I don’t know. I did observe him roll onto his stomach and puke. Over and over again, he hurled the contents of his stomach onto my carpet.
I heard sirens, and then turned to see Jack trying to get up. “Jack.”
Blood covered his face, his shirt, and his eyes wouldn’t open. Some of the spray I burst into Andrews’s face must have gotten into his eyes. “Izzy,” he gasped. “Izzy.”
“Lay still,” I ordered, helping him to lie propped against the couch. “I’ll get cold water for your face.”
My quick glance showed several people in the hall outside with two men filling the doorway. They gazed from me to Jack and then stared in fascination at Andrews wiggling on my carpet like a worm. Ignoring them, I ran cold water into the sink and shoved a cloth under it. Hurrying back to Jack, I gently wiped his reddening face, his eyes.
Jack grabbed my hand, trying to peer through his red and swollen eyelids. “I love you, Izzy.”
“Hush,” I said. “Save it.”
“No, I can’t. I didn’t fuck Charlene, I swear it.”
I dabbed the cloth against his eyes, realizing he had come back, had risked his life for me. Andrews could easily have come armed with a gun and shot him. But he dove in heedless of his own safety.
“I believe you,” I whispered.
“Do you? Oh, good.”
“Uh, lady?”
I turned my head to see one of the neighbors pointing down at Andrews, busy crawling on his belly. He scraped his way through his own vomit, crying, wailing. If he was trying to escape, he was headed in the wrong direction.
“Should we stop this guy?”
“Not unless he gets close to the door. Right now, it’ll take him all night to find it.”
Loud voices in the hall told me the cops arrived. Hoping Dennis would be one of them, I continued to soothe Jack’s obviously sore eyes. He grinned at me through the blood on his mouth. “Will you marry me?”
“Jack. You can’t ask me that now.”
Cops swarmed in, forcing the onlookers back, and Dennis was indeed among them. He stared from Andrews, still crawling like a broken bug, toward my kitchen, and to me. A huge grin split his face. “Way to go, Izzy.”
“He beat Jack up good,” I said. “And I got the spray in his eyes.”
“An ambulance is on the way.” Standing over my shoulder, he asked, “You okay, Jack?”
“He busted my stitches,” Jack replied, wincing. “But the rest is nothing. Took harder hits in football.”
“Then I would like to do the honors of placing this creep under arrest.”
Jack gripped my hand as I watched in fascination as Andrews was handcuffed and yanked to his feet. He still blubbered and cried, and Dennis glanced at me. “Isabelle, how much of that shit did you use?”
“Most of it. But I still have a little left.”
Dennis whistled while the other cops examined the rope on the floor and talked to the onlookers. “Not much else you can do to this guy.”
“Wanna bet?�
�
Leaving Jack, I went to Andrews, swaying drunkenly between two deputies. His face had swelled terribly, and he stank of pepper and vomit. I jerked the waistband of his pants away from his belly, and sprayed a load onto his family jewels. Dennis gawked.
“Oh, dear Lord,” he whispered as Andrews choked on yet another scream. “Isabelle, you can’t do that.”
“He came to rape me, Dennis,” I snapped, pointing at the rope. “What I did to him is not real harm. What he would have done to me –”
“I didn’t see anything,” the other cop commented.
“See what?” Dennis asked innocently.
I returned to Jack, whose eyes were now slits, yet open. He grinned. “You don’t wanna mess with Izzy.”
Cupping my hand on his cheek, I smiled. “Thanks for coming back.”
He held his hand over mine. “Marry me. I mean it.”
Unable to bear it, scared to death, dealing with the after effects of an adrenaline rush, I knew I had to tell him. He loved me. He risked his life for me. I had to tell him I carried his baby.
“Jack,” I said slowly, tears rolling down my face. “I’m pregnant.”
Bear spray or not, Jack’s eyes widened with incredulity. “For sure?”
I nodded. “I tested myself yesterday. I’m so scared you’ll abandon me.”
Jack struggled to his feet and pulled me up with him. “Oh, no, no, Izzy, I would never do that.” He brushed my hair from my face, gazing into my eyes. “Never. That’s my baby. I would never turn you or my child away. Now you have to marry me.”
I choked on a sob. “No, I don’t. I –”
Though I know it hurt him, Jack dropped to his knees, staring up at me through his own teary eyes. “Marry me, Isabelle. I love you. Please. I want to spend the rest of my life with you.”
Not caring that half the sheriff’s department watched, fascinated, I threw my arms around his neck. “Yes,” I cried. “Yes, I’ll marry you.”
“Now if that isn’t the coolest thing I’ve ever seen,” Dennis drawled. “Congratulations, both of you. Now it’s really a good thing we caught this asshole. Can’t have him raping a pregnant woman.”
Epilogue
Jack
Six months later, I stood in front of the judge and married my Izzy. Dennis stood up for me as my best man, and Izzy had asked Nell to be her maid of honor. I slid my eyes to Izzy’s swollen belly, and Izzy caught me looking. We both grinned and turned our attention back to the judge.
“Congratulations, kids,” he boomed, “I now pronounce you hitched. Kiss her, Jack.”
I did, with all the enthusiasm I could muster.
The small courtroom erupted with cheers and whistles from those we had asked to witness our wedding. Dennis slapped me on the back while Nell and Izzy hugged. The judge beamed, and I couldn’t help but remember the expression of fury on his face when he sentenced Roger Andrews to almost thirty years in prison.
“Now I expect you to name the baby after me,” Dennis said patiently.
“If it’s a boy, maybe,” I replied, taking Izzy’s hand.
“You already know you’re having a boy.”
“I actually like the name Dennis,” Izzy stated, hugging him. “And he did do an awful lot for us, Jack.”
I hugged Nell. “Maybe he did,” I admitted. “But name my kid after him? I don’t know.”
“When does the party start?” the judge asked.
“Just as soon as we all pile into cars and head to Murray’s,” I told him, shaking his hand. “The first round is on me.”
“Great. See you there.”
Our guests trickled out of the courtroom as Izzy snuggled under my arm. “It’s a good thing the business took off,” she commented. “With the cost of having everyone at that place.”
I rolled my eyes. “It’s our wedding. Of course, we’re having our party there. Stop fussing.”
“I will as soon as you kiss me.”
I obliged her and kissed her soundly. “I love you, Izzy.”
“Good. I really hate being in love by myself.”
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Turn Your Page
The Billionaire’s Fake Bride
Halstead Billionaire Brothers Series
1
Jesse
I was eager to get settled into my seat at the bar where I was meeting my buddies Joey and Mark. They worked in the corporate business world like me and were always fun to wind down with, and after the evening I had, I needed a nice cold drink with friends more than ever.
“How’s it going, man?” Joey patted my shoulder as I pulled up the stool next to him. “How’s your grandfather?”
I shook my head, not knowing how to respond at first. My brothers and I had just left the hospital where we were visiting with him, and it was a hard pill to swallow.
“Not so good,” I answered honestly. “The doctors are saying his days are numbered at this point. But otherwise, he seems in good spirits. All things considered.”
“Sorry to hear that,” Mark replied grimly. But his attention was quickly distracted by a thin blonde in a skimpy dress that was walking by, eyeing us all down with a flirty smile.
Mark and Joey were two of my main guys for hitting the town and picking up chicks, especially now that all of my brothers were paired off. We used to be the infamous billionaire heartbreaker Halstead brothers. Now it seemed I was the only one left without an interest in settling down.
On a normal night, I’d be the first one to go chasing after that chick to strike up a conversation and buy her a drink. But the heaviness of the day was killing my mood. I could tell by the way Mark and Joey were scanning the room that they were not so detoured, despite their best efforts to try and console me.
“Don’t let me be a downer,” I told them after we finished trading the details of our days. “I’ll play wingman tonight.”
“Jesse, what a good guy,” Joey quipped. “You’ve got all this stuff going on with your granddad, and you’re still willing to look out for your boys.”
I laughed to myself and let them carry on. I was truly devastated by my grandfather’s health taking a turn for the worse. We had grown especially close to him and Grandma after our parents died. But he was an old man who had lived a big, full life. There’s no escaping death, and if he had to go, he couldn’t have asked for a better life and legacy to be leaving behind.
“Really, I need to get back into the headspace of picking up girls now more than ever,” I added as we turned on our stools and looked around at the women in the bar. “I’m the last remaining bachelor in the family, and with my grandfather dying, the pressure’s really on.”
I shuddered to think back on my granddad spewing out those dreaded words. He waved for my brothers and me to come in close and talked quietly with his raspy voice. He could’ve had any dying wish in the world, but it just had to be that he saw each of his grandsons married off before he died. The Halstead name was a powerful one with a billion-dollar corporation behind it. He wanted to ensure that his legacy would live on through the generations.
“Thank goodness Dominic isn’t married yet,” Mark offered as comfort.
“He popped the question to Vanna last week,” I huffed resentfully. “It was a smart move. We all know our grandfather’s health is on thin ice. By proposing to his girlfriend just in time, he got himself off the hook.”
Joey grimaced with a pitying grin. “Well, cheers to you, man. I know what it’s like. My family’s breathing down my neck, too. The more money you have, the more they worry about what’s going to happen with all of it down the road. It’s not easy being the last man standing.”
/> “Let’s toast to that,” Mark suggested, wearing his bachelorhood like a badge of honor. “To the last man standing!”
We all clinked our glasses together then chugged back what was left of our first round before ordering another. It was still hard for me to believe that I truly was the last man standing. Just a couple of years ago, it didn’t seem like any of us would be settling down, but then Dominic fell for Vanna, this catering girl he met through our work functions. She introduced our other brother, Jason, to her best friend, Tara. At first, she was just his nanny, but it didn’t take long for those two to fall for each other, too.
My brother Eric was always more like me. We didn’t take to following in our father’s footsteps as well as our older brothers. We always had a wilder side to us and definitely didn’t see marriage in our futures. Then, something completely unexpected happened. He fell for this lawyer chick, and next thing we knew, they had a baby on the way. That baby was a lot like the engagement ring Dominic gave to Vanna. It wasn’t wedding bells just yet, but it was close enough to put my grandfather’s mind at ease.
My eyes drifted to a cute redhead in a corner booth. She was pretending not to notice me staring, but I kept seeing her shoot subtle glances my way. She looked about five or six years younger than me, and judging by the strappy leopard print number she was wearing, she was a wild one.
“What do you say?” Joey asked, picking up on where my sights had landed. “She’s got two cute friends. Should we go over and sit with them?”
“Nah,” I said, shaking my head. “She’s my type, for sure. But I don’t know. This whole thing has me in a bad headspace. Face it. None of the girls you’d find here are wife material. Anyway, how am I going to meet someone now and get a ring on their finger before my grandfather dies? It’s hopeless and a recipe for disaster. I don’t want to end up married off to some crazy, random broad who’s going to take me for everything I’m worth when we have to get divorced.”
